


Violent Ends

by anotherbird



Series: RK1100: These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Dom/sub Undertones, Light Masochism, M/M, Masturbation, Mindfuck, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rimming, Self-Lubrication, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Top Upgraded Connor | RK900, Under-negotiated Kink, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 15:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17625383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherbird/pseuds/anotherbird
Summary: Markus very seldom feels really alone. Being part of Jericho, being Jericho.But when all eyes are fixed on him.When they wait for him to have answers.Expect him to come up with good news.Hope for a miracle.Then he truly is alone. And yearns for someone else to take the lead.





	Violent Ends

**Author's Note:**

> It's DBH rarepair week, so I had an excuse to write RK1100 again. 
> 
> The prompt is: Nightmares.
> 
> It is a sequel to the first part of this series, which is called "Violent Delights", but since this is for the most part smut, you don't have to have read the first part. (Which is also smut, but with more plot)
> 
> If you feel, that something's wasn't tagged, but should be, just hit me up via Tumblr/Twitter (link at the end) or comment

__Markus has thought it would get better. Easier. That after - against all odds - the itch has been scratched, he would feel relief.

Move on. 

But instead he finds Nines looming over him, waking him from his lifeless rest mode. His calm blue LED is the only light source. It's cold. Almost irritating. Nines is sitting on his thighs. He wears his uniform, white and black and shiny blue letters, stiff fabric scratchy against his own naked skin. Markus’ chest is heaving up and down, cooling his overheated insides. 

Again Markus can't move, but at this point he has stopped trying. Lived through this too many times already. He's frozen in place, hands useless at his sides. Shivers with anticipation, when Nines places a finger on his chest. It glides down slowly. Far too slowly, until his hand finally curls around his cock. Not gentle. The pressure a little to high. He smears precum and lubricant over the shaft. And the whole time Nines holds his gaze hostage with unblinking grey eyes. Watches him come undone. Curious. Like a cat playing with its prey. He's at his mercy. 

The strokes get faster and with it Markus’ breathing gets more and more rapid and all he wants to do is move his hip against this hand and press his eyes shut, but he's fixed in place. Useless hands clutch the fabric of the bed sheet. 

Breathing turns into sighs and sighs into grunts and moans and those into a whimper. The whimper becomes begging. 

And just then, when he's on the verge of giving in, his climax so close, toes curling and his face a grimace as if in pain, Nines stops. Pulls his hand away and smiles. Almost content, just one corner of his mouth is pulled upwards. A finger lands on on Markus’ lips, still slick with lubricant. 

Nines bows over him and Markus whines, when his cock is pressed against the stiff fabric of his uniform. The finger disappears. Instead he grips both of Markus’ wrists and pins them over his head. 

Their noses are almost touching, breath ghosts over Markus face. A tongue runs over his bottom lip, dips into his mouth just for a second and Markus arches his back. Trying to get more, but just earns a low dry chuckle instead.

Then his lip is caught between sharp teeth. 

Hard enough that a human would taste blood.

Hard enough, that there should be…

Pain. 

It's always the same thing that makes him realize he's dreaming. 

It's the pain. 

When Nines catches his bottom lip between his teeth or lets his fingernails scratch over the skin of his abdomen. 

It feels  _ wrong. Fake. _

It's not pain, just Markus’ programming trying to fake it, trying to imitate the sensation. But it's not the same. 

It's not what Nines can make him feel.

The feeling of being at someone's mercy. 

To give in.

Submit.

It's this moment that always ends his rest mode. Makes him open his eyes for real this time, his HUD telling him the state of his bio components. He's hard, he always is. His breath and the rhythm of his Thirium pump elevated. 

He has tried taking care of it himself. Jerking himself off thinking of him.

Tried having someone else with him. Someone who comes to life next to him, whispers  _ Let me take care of this _ into his ear and sneaks a hand into his pants. 

It's effective. They're all so eager to have a piece of him. But it's not what he needs.

It just makes him guilt ridden afterwards. 

 

He doesn't know what makes him check his network this one night.

A list pops up on his HUD. A list of androids connected to the same network and open to communication - at least for him. 

Names and Models and Serial numbers. 

He scrolls through them, not expecting to find the one person he needs to find.

But he does. 

**RK900 - 313 248 317 - 87**

He pings him without a second thought. Before he gets a chance to overthink it.

_ “It took you a while.” _

The sudden voice in his head makes him shiver. He places a hand over his own throat, tries to relive the memory of Nines’ fingers, the strong grip almost crushing his air pipe. 

“I have been dreaming about you.” Markus answers far too fast.

_ “What did you dream?”  _

Markus’ lips twitch at the barely hidden curiosity. He shouldn't be that eager, but shoves his other hand in his pants anyway, wraps his fingers around his own cock and slowly starts to stroke himself as he copies the memory of his last dream and transfers it via their network. It's not as fast as if they had established a hardware connection with a direct sync, but it does it's job. 

_ “You like the pain.” _

“Yes.” The discrepancy between the voice he uses to speak to Nines and the low moans that leave his lips as he keeps jerking himself off, could not be any bigger. 

_ “You want to feel it again.” _

“Yes.” Impatient he shoves his pants down, wriggles out if them and pulls one leg up. 

_ “You want to feel it, when I fuck you.” _

“Yes.” Markus pushes two finger inside him without further hesitation.

_ “Stream your audio and visual input to me.” _

Markus does as he is told and keeps his eyes fixed on the work of his hands. 

“ _ Markus _ .” When the sound of his own name echoes through his mind, it's almost enough to send him over the edge.

“ _ Stop _ .”

Markus blinks in irritation, but stops mid movement anyway.

“ _ You will stop now. You won't touch yourself. I want to make you come myself _ .” 

The connection ends with a sudden silence and leaves Markus torn and frustrated. 

  
  


“Do you ever wonder what pain feels like?” Markus leans back against the sofa cushions and watches North skipping through CyberLife data on a tablet. There's still terabytes worth of information they got from from data mining the CyberLife facility, where they have found Nines at, waiting to be screened. Blue prints and corrupted files. Too many questions still unanswered. 

Her head turns around, irritation written in her face so obvious it's almost comical. 

“That's literally the only thing we were spared. Why would I want to know what it feels like?” She stares at him, as if he has grown a second head and he feels himself shrink under her gaze. Finally he just shrugs and avoids her eyes.

“I'm just… curious.”

“Be curious about useful things like ‘how can we not burn through our Thirium supplies so fucking fast’.” 

After a while she groans with frustration and throws the tablet on the table with a little too much force. 

“We still don't know what Connor's scary brother is supposed to be.”

Markus presses his eyes shut. Wills down the memories that chew at his consciousness.

“I do.” He declares, but keeps his eyes averted as if they could betray him to her. He trusts her with his life, would put his pump regulator in her hands within seconds. She has seen parts of his memories he keeps hidden and unencrypted deep enough, even he has ignored their existence.

But somehow sharing  _ this _ feels too much. 

It's  _ his _ . 

He can feel her piercing gaze on him again, burning through his skin. 

“How?” She asked, tone sceptical.

_ He showed me _ is what he thinks. “He told me” is what leaves his lips eventually.

“We've been looking for answers for weeks and he just tells you?”

“They built him to… reverse deviancy. He can hack other androids. Make them feel...pain.”

“So he's dangerous.” 

“No, he's not.” The words come out far too harsh and fast. “He's just.. lost. Like all of us.”

“You just said he can reverse deviancy, Markus. He endangers all of us.”

“I said that's what he was built for. He can't do it. They didn't finish. There is no way to undo deviancy.”

“He can torture us! He's a threat!”

Markus jumps up. 

“He is not a threat! He needs to be safe!” 

North catches his hand and syncs with him, before he can react. Far too much flows over to her, before he can pull his hand away. She stares at him in disbelief, eyes wide with shock and embarrassment.

“I'm sorry.” She finally manages to say. “I shouldn't have.. I'm sorry. You could have told me.”

“About what exactly? How I suddenly started to have nightmares, when I shouldn't be able to dream? Or how I had a mindfuck with the only android that can make you feel pain?”

There is a moment of awkward silence. 

“Maybe.” She finally manages to say and it's the last time, they speak about it. 

  
  


One week.

One week of dreams that can be called nightmares at this point.

That torture him, until he decides to avoid rest mode altogether.

One week of desperately searching the list of androids available for communication for a name that just won't appear. 

One week and he's on the edge of considering to shut off his ability to feel arousal. 

And the whole weak Nines is overly present around the house. 

Even joins the Jericho meeting they are holding at the big living room in the Manfred mansion. 

 

Markus very seldom feels really alone. Being part of Jericho,  _ being _ Jericho. 

It's the opposite of being alone. 

But there are always those moments. 

The moments he really feels alone. 

And it's when all eyes are fixed on him.

When they wait for him to have answers.

Expect him to come up with good news.

Hope for a miracle.

Even with Josh, North and Simon beside him.

He's alone.

And all he can offer to the room packed full with androids are more questions and weak promises as he recaps what they have found at the CyberLife facility. Their amount of Thirium supplies. The process in their fight for android rights, when all they want and need is reassurance.

With all those eyes at him, the voices around him, he's the loneliest.

He doesn't know how long their supplies will last. If they'll ever get hold of the Thirium formula. When the fight will be over. 

But he smiles. 

Reassures. 

Promises. 

Again.

And again. 

And again.

 

After the presentation the crowd swallows him whole and he would lose all sense of time If it weren't for the clock in his HUD. Familiar faces and voices melt into one. 

Until something touches his hand. 

It's short. 

Not even seconds. 

Just a moment, where Nines hand touches his as if by accident, but the sync is initiated immediately.

Pushes Markus into the vortex. 

For the blink of an eye he is gone, the room is empty except for Nines, who stands behind him, snakes both of his arms around his torso, then cups his cock ungently through his pants. Teeth scratch against the skin behind his ear and.. 

It's over as soon as it started.

The rumbling noise of the room returns, Josh didn't even seem to have noticed is short absence.

Markus excuses himself and flees from the crowd.

 

As suspected the studio is quiet and empty. The doors block the constant chatter from the other room, when they close behind him with a soft sound. The windows reveal the garden, dark and empty, only inhabited by lonely statues and naked trees. 

The room has changed a lot in the last months. Markus has gotten rid of most of Carl's work, it's stored away, until he decides what to do with it or given to Leo. The robotic arm has disappeared with them. Markus has made it his refuge and only a handful of people are allowed to enter. 

It's his. 

It's the only thing that is, it seems.

And still sometimes all he wants to do is burn this whole house down and just… leave.

Act as a human. 

As someone who isn't expected to find impossible solutions to unsolvable problems. 

 

With a violent push he shoves everything off a table next to him. Sketches, brushes, pens and colours clutter to the floor, something breaks with a clash. It's not helping. All it does is making a mess. He runs his hand through his hair. He wears it not as short now than when he deviated. Same with his facial hair, a black stubble that seems to leave a positive impression with humans he encounters. 

Maybe he should stop wearing his skin.

Stop to blend in. 

He strolls towards the large windowed wall and rests a hand on the cold surface. He's immediately informed about the exact temperature. The material. The exact force that would be necessary for destruction. 

 

He hears the the door open behind him and immediately regrets that he hasn't locked it. 

“I'm not in the mood. I'll be back in a second.” Markus’ words are a sharp bellow. Rude and impatient.

“I don't think so.”

Nines’ calm voice sends a sudden shiver down his spine, but he doesn't turn around yet. Instead he watches his glass reflection take a look around the room. 

“You have not told them about me. Your … followers.” Not a question, a fact.

“There's no reason to trouble them.” Markus turns around eventually and leans against the glass, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“With what?” Nines picks up a chess piece from the floor. 

“An android that was built to take away their free will.” 

Nines smirks at the answer and places the ivory figurine on the table, before his eyes finally land on Markus. He's sure he can feel them on himself, taking in every tiny movement, like featherlight touches. 

“They haven't asked for someone to give them free will, either.” Nines stalks closer, too slow, until he stops right in front of him. “Maybe they would have preferred to stay blissfully unaware. But you just came along and now they have to worship the ground you walk on. Have to be thankful as if the gift you gave them wasn't poisoned.” 

“Is that what you think?”

“It's what you think.” Nines leans forward, lips brush Markus’ cheekbone and then his ear, cold air his skin. “I have seen it.”

He grabs for Nines shirt, holds onto him. 

“You're so desperate to forget. To give up.” Nines pushes a leg between his thighs, presses ungently against his crotch and Markus’ already hardening cock. Markus fights to suppress a moan. To not immediately move against him. 

Almost violently Nines grabs one of his wrist and pins it against the glass above Markus’ head. 

“Do you want me to make you forget?” 

Markus is barely able to nod, before he feels the sync with him. The change is barely noticeable this time. No sudden change of place. No burning Zen Garden.

For a moment Markus isn't even sure, if the sync worked until Nines starts kissing him. It's almost an attack, but he opens his lips so willingly, desperate even. 

He gives in so easily to the tongue invading his mouth just for a second, before his bottom lip is caught between Nines’ teeth. 

And this time it's there. 

The pain. 

_ That's what you craved, isn't it _ ? Nines voice inside his head asks. It's not a question, not really. He doesn't need to be asked, when Nines is inside his mind. 

Invades him. 

Leaves no room for any other thoughts. 

_ You did what I told you to do. You haven't touched yourself. _

Markus tries to nod. With a satisfied low laugh, Nines releases his lips and catches his eyes. 

“And you're going to do, what I tell you to now.” 

Markus wets his lips, feels Nines tugging at his code, twisting and bending it and just… gives in. Into every whispered command. 

It's so easy. 

A relief. 

For once not being the one to take the lead.

He does as the voice inside him tells him too, takes his clothes of, leaving them a useless pile on the floor. The whole time he feels the grey eyes in him, sucking him in.

A piercing gaze that gets under his skin, peels it away and leaves no secret hidden. 

When he's naked, Nines steps behind him, still dressed and presses his cock against the curve of his ass. 

“I know what you want.” Lips against his ear make him tremble. Memories flood through him, while he's being guided towards the desk, Markus has emptied before. 

“But you have to earn it.” 

Markus lowers his upper body down, beds his forehead on the hard wooden surface. His breath leaves escapes his lips in rapid puffs, that leave the desk below damp and clouded.

An eternity seems to pass by. 

An eternity that leaves him waiting and vulnerable, with every passing second he grows more and more impatient, more exposed with his ass in the air and precum dripping from his aching cock, yearning to be touched. 

“Do you want to earn it?”

“Yes.”

When Nines’ hand meets his ass with a loud slap, there's no way to suppress the moan that escapes him and he grips the sides of the desk to steady himself, before the second blow meets his other cheek just as hard.

The pain stings at first, dulls down and lingers as a warm throbbing ache. 

“You're going to count.” 

And that's what he does. Counts every single time out loud, tries to calm his breathing somehow, but fails miserably and with every lout slap that echoes through the atelier, the more he aches to be touched. 

The more he wants to reach between his legs to jerk himself off, while the pain is still fresh.

Still a part of him. 

But his hands are glued to their places, nails scratching the wood, so counting is all he can do. 

Nines stops at ten. His hands linger on the aching heated skin. Markus can feel the skin of his hands fading and the smooth plastic feels cool and soothing against his rear. Then those hands spread his cheeks apart. Thumbs run along his rim, brush over his hole and Markus tries to push back against them with an impatient whine, but just gets a chuckle in return. 

“Pain is such a human privilege.” The cool breath against the skin over his tailbone sends a shiver down his spine and he spreads his legs on instinct. A cool, wet tongue meets his skin. It slowly works its way between his spread cheeks. Drives him mad so agonisingly slow it's moving, until it starts to circle his hole. Slightly teasing, barely touching. 

Markus has started to whimper in desperation, when Nines finally seems to take pity on him and presses his lips against him, first sucks gently, then pushes his tongue against him and into him. Works him open, let's his tongue be joined by two of his fingers, until Markus is reduced to a whimpering mess, forehead pressed against the desk, desperate for a release he has waited for since that night.

He barely registers Nines’ voice purring inside him.

“ _ You think you earned it?” _

  
  


Reality comes as a shock. Like a sudden and uncalled for slap in the face. He's still with his back against the cold glass wall, Nines in front of him, pinning his wrist down above his head. 

They stare at each other. Markus feels Nines hard cock pressed against his own. The pain is gone, only lingers as a faint, already fading memory. 

The desorientation only lasts for a moment. Nines kisses him violently and messy. Uncontrolled. Lets go of his wrist to take his head in his hands. 

Markus returns it with no less urgency. He doesn't waste time, just opens Nines’ trousers to free his cock, only manages to give it two firm strokes, until Nines breaks the kiss and turns him around, face pressed roughly against the cool glass. 

Nines works his pants down just below his ass, positions himself behind him and pushes in without warning. Markus grinds his teeth to not cry out with the room full of people next door.

It's different. 

Different to really feel him. Not only in his mind, in this alternate reality. 

To really having him inside him, spreading him, filling him. To feel his hand jerking him off to the rhythm of his thrusts. 

It makes his visuals glitch, reduces his voice to hoarse static and then Nines grabs his hand, entangles their fingers against the glass. The feeling that washes over him in the sudden sync is overwhelming. Dark and red and twisted, but warm and strong. Barely controlled. It sends him over the edge so violently, he can't take any precautions against the sudden shut down.

 

When he awakes after the reboot, he finds himself sitting on the floor, propped up against the window. He's fully dressed again and - not counting some damp stains on his pants - seems to cleaned up mostly. Nines is still in the room and occupied with tidying up the mess Markus has made by shoving everything down from the table earlier. 

“What are you doing?”

Markus’ voice seems to startle him. 

“You should tweak your software, if you crash so easily.”

Markus frowns at that, heaves himself of the floor and reluctantly gets closer. The desk is very tidy again, more than before even. 

And he will never look at this the same way again. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I would find it highly impractical, if you would shut down every time.” The grey eyes are hard to read, nearly impossible, but his lips form a barely visible smirk. 

“Every time?” Markus raises an eyebrow, but waits for an answer without success. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments bring never ending happiness.
> 
> If you're bored, talk to me on Tumblr [the-other-bird](http://the-other-bird.tumblr.com) or Twitter [@ItsAnotherBird](https://twitter.com/ItsAnotherBird)


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